Missing
by velja
Summary: Set during Ep. 4x6 Tabula Rasa. Deceased Nathan sees himself through the eyes of the ones he left behind and the memories they have of him. Good, bad, funny, sad... Is someone even missing him at all? Or are they simply going on with their lives?


**Missing**

By velja

_Please keep in mind that each part shows a different person's POV and the parts are not necessarily written in chronological order. They each could be seen as a stand-alone. I hope you're not too confused now, you'll get what I mean once you've read it._

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* * *

  
_

**_Please, please forgive me _**

**_But I won't be home again _**

**_Maybe someday you'll look up_**

**_And, barely conscious, you'll say to no one:_**

**_"Isn't something missing?"_**

It was dark where he was.

It had been dark for a long time now. He wasn't sure if it had been hours, days, months or even years. Sometimes it felt like he'd always been here, forever surrounded by black nothingness, with no conscious thought of a different existence.

Other times he knew with perfect clarity that once, not too long ago, there had been something else. **He'd** been something else then, something other than this weightless, bodiless being surrounded by darkness. There'd been a time when he'd been more than a mere collection of drifting thoughts.

There'd been a time, once, when he'd been human and he'd had a life.

Once, he'd been Nathan Petrelli.

Senator Nathan Petrelli, 40 years old, American citizen, lawyer and politician, born and raised in New York. A son to Arthur and Angela Petrelli, a brother to Peter and for a few years a husband to Heidi.

He'd been a father, too. Not the best, far from it actually, but a father nonetheless. To Simon and Monty Petrelli as well as to Claire Bennet. Or… he'd tried to be.

He remembered. Among the darkness he remembered.

There were times, between the stray thoughts that he mostly seemed to consist of, when the darkness would lift to suddenly let the light shine through.

Light that came in the form of more coherent thoughts. Memories.

Memories of people that had once been important to him and to whom he'd been important as well.

Or so he'd thought.

He wasn't so sure of that anymore. Whenever the darkness vanished in favor of more substantial memories he tried to hold on to them, feel them, grasp them with hands that no longer existed in the realm of his being.

He tried to capture the memories, tried to make them stay. The memories and the people attached to them. The ones he'd lost when he'd become… this.

And sometimes he managed to briefly grasp them, reach them beyond mere thoughts. He stole minute glimpses at the people, the ones that his life had been filled with, had revolved around, before.

He wanted to capture them, tie them to his bodiless self and wrap them around his insubstantial form like a cloak. He wanted to build himself a new body out of them. Out of the people he remembered, the ones he knew he'd once loved.

But had they loved him back? Had he touched their lives the same way they'd touched his? Did they remember him, dream of him, miss him, like he did them?

_**You won't cry for my absence, I know**_

_**You forgot me long ago**_

_**Am I that unimportant...?**_

_**Am I so insignificant...?**_

_**Isn't something missing?**_

_**Isn't someone missing me?**_

_**

* * *

  
**_

_Heidi, Simon & Monty_

"Come on, boys, you're late for school!" Heidi Petrelli called up the stairs and waited for her sons to come rushing down. "The bus will be leaving without you if you don't hurry!"

Ever since the divorce the two Petrelli boys had gone to school by bus rather than the private car they'd been used to. Heidi didn't want them to grow too used to luxuries she no longer cared for, now that she wasn't the wife of a politician anymore (and therefore had far more privacy than before). With Nathan Petrelli as a husband she'd lived a public life and her boys had stood in the spotlight as well, but now… everything was different now.

Though not necessarily better, or worse. Just… different.

Eventually two pairs of feet stumbled down the steps and Simon rushed past his mother, waving carelessly with a hastily shouted: "Bye, mom!"

Monty followed his brother at a slower pace and stopped in front of the waiting Heidi. She crouched down to pull him into a hug and felt his head come to rest against her shoulder.

"Mom," he whispered into her ear, "is daddy gonna visit us next weekend?"

Heidi let out an involuntarily sigh and squeezed Monty's small form. "I don't know, sweetheart. I haven't been able to ask him yet. He isn't answering his phone."

"Oh," Monty nodded disappointed, "okay. He's busy."

"Yes, as a Senator he has many obligations and things he needs to take care of, you understand that, do you?" Heidi felt terrible for having to come up with excuses again and again. Lately it seemed that Nathan's busy life had taken a turn for the worse. He'd seemed almost… indifferent to his kids the last time he'd visited them.

Sure, he'd taken her, Simon and Monty sailing and had tried to teach their sons how to handle the boat but… he'd seemed aloof and with his head miles away all day. He hadn't responded to the familiar banter Heidi and him had managed to hold up after the divorce (and after he'd stopped wallowing in self-pity or guilt over his brother's disappearance and had eventually sobered up again).

This last sailing trip now had been… different. Like everything else.

And that had been several months ago already. Since then she hadn't seen or heard anything from Nathan and neither had the boys.

Heidi released her hold on Monty and stood up straight. She placed a comforting hand under the boy's soft chin and made him look up to her.

"I'm sure your dad's gonna come for a visit as soon as he's got a day off. And then he'll take you sailing again like he promised, okay?"

"Sure," Monty replied with a shrug and started walking to the door. He could hear the school bus waiting outside and his brother had probably already mounted.

"Hey," Heidi stopped her son again, "I love you, and your dad loves you too, you know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know," the young boy nodded, "I'm just not sure if he still remembers it!"

"I'm sure he does," Heidi replied with a determined nod. She watched her son leave the house and added to herself: "And if not, then I'm gonna remind him of it again. As soon as I'll get him on the phone! I don't care that he threw twelve years of marriage aside just like that but I'm not gonna let him do the same to our boys. They need their father, just as much as he needs his sons to be a better man."

_**Even though I'm the sacrifice**_

_**You won't try for me, not now**_

_**Though I'd die to know you love me**_

_**I'm all alone**_

_**Isn't someone missing me?**_

_**

* * *

  
**_

_Peter_

Peter stared stunned at the small piece of paper that Hiro had left behind in the hospital. 'Save Charlie' stood there in pale blue letters. Had Hiro accidentally time-traveled or had he gone back in time, trying to save his friend, on purpose?

Peter didn't know.

And there was nothing he could do now. So… had he gained Jeremy's ability for nothing? In the last few hours Peter had been shot, had nearly died and then had been healed by the young man… and all for nothing?

Hiro was gone and Peter couldn't help him anymore. Great.

"Peter?" Emma's voice still sounded strange to Peter's ears, with her unique way of pronouncing words she wasn't able to hear herself.

"Yeah?" Peter turned towards the young woman so that she'd be able to read his lips.

"I wasn't ready before, to listen to your friend explain these abilities. So… could you tell me more? What other abilities are there? Have you met many people like me, like us?"

Peter sent a warm smile back and cautiously took her arm to steer her alongside. "I've met dozens of people with abilities, and I'd absorbed most of them myself one time or another. Telling you all about it could take a while."

"Well, I'm free to go now, so," Emma smiled shyly, "if you've got time we could have dinner and… talk."

Peter needed only a second to think about it.

He'd originally planned on visiting his mom tonight, trying to get her thoughts off Nathan's strange disappearance for a while, but…

He could just as well visit her tomorrow, right? And perhaps Nathan would have shown up again by then. Peter desperately hoped so. Not that he shared their mother's fears of something bad having happened to his brother, mind you.

Nathan was a grown man, he knew how to look out for himself. Besides, if something bad had happened to him, like kidnapping for example, wouldn't someone have demanded a ransom by now?

No, Peter didn't believe Nathan was in any danger. Still, he hoped his brother would show up soon, because… Peter simply couldn't bear to deal with his mother when she was in a state like now, all aloof and worried. That was something he hadn't seen often and, truthfully, it frightened him more than anything in the world.

Peter steered his thoughts back to the present.

"Sure," he replied to Emma finally. "I know a place where they serve the best pizza in town. And they have music, so… lots of colors for you to watch."

"Great," Emma smiled back and went to her office to retrieve her things.

Later that night, after Peter had walked Emma home at the end of their date, he lay in bed, unable to sleep. Peter knew he had to get rest soon or otherwise he would be grouchy and not fit for work in a few hours.

Still, sleep simply wouldn't come.

Too many thoughts were running through Peter's head right now, thoughts and memories of Nathan.

Telling Emma everything he knew about abilities had naturally involved talking about his brother, even though he'd tried to steer the conversation away from more recent events (Nathan ordering to round up everyone with an ability and lock them away inside Building 26 for example).

No, Peter had focused on the past, on the times when he and Nathan and countless others around the world had discovered their abilities for the first time.

The times when Peter and Nathan Petrelli had been connected by more than just the same last name, or a slight feeling of family obligation. The times when they'd been connected by a feeling of love and understanding so deep, so much stronger than the normal brotherly bond, that no one else seemed to get it.

It had been unconditional love, admiration and hero-worship on Peter's side and, no matter how hard Nathan had tried to hide his feelings from the world, Peter had known that Nathan loved him too. Though to anyone else it had often looked as if Nathan merely pitied his little brother, had been condescending even, Peter had always known, underneath it, that there was love, admiration and even envy on Nathan's side. Envy for the naivety and carelessness with which his younger brother stumbled through life.

Envy for the freedom Peter had had in everything, a freedom Nathan's life had so obviously lacked. There'd always been obligations and responsibilities for him to fulfill. First the family, their father's great expectations, then a wife and kids who'd brought their own responsibilities and demands. Joining the D.A. and later politics… Nathan's life had seemed to be ruled by anybody but himself (at least compared to Peter's more carefree lifestyle).

Peter was able to see that now, years later. His childish naivety and hero-worship of his big brother had disappeared, he'd grown up at last.

Nathan's dubious actions of the more recent past had helped a great deal in that, sure, but even before this whole 'Nathan-on-the-hill-against-the-rest' thing had started, Peter had learned to put his rose-colored-glasses aside whenever he looked at Nathan.

Ever since that fateful day nearly three years ago, in the narrow alley, when Nathan had flown up to grab Peter's spiraling form and save him from falling to his death, then denying his ability at first only to confess to it shortly afterwards again… ever since then Peter had regarded their relationship differently.

Many ups and downs had followed this first innocent adventure, or rather… many downs and even bigger downs, some of them leaving cuts so deep that Peter was sure they could never be healed. Some things you simply couldn't forgive completely.

But despite all that Peter had noticed that lately Nathan had tried to mend the fences.

He'd tried to reach out to his brother again. They'd even worked alongside each other, they'd managed to kill Sylar. Or, well… Nathan had done it in the end.

How? Peter had no idea but that wasn't important anymore, was it?

Important was that for a few weeks now, ever since they'd defeated Sylar and life had turned back to something resembling normality, Nathan had tried to reach out to Peter and Peter had been the one to draw back, to ignore his family, to close himself off from anyone.

Even Noah had commented on it with a calmly and well-meant advice: "That's no way to live, Peter."

And Peter knew that he wasn't the type to live all alone, he simply wasn't cut out for a life closed off from everybody else.

Peter needed friends and family, other people, like air to breathe.

So that's why, when Nathan had shown up at the hospital a few days ago, desperate to talk to Peter, desperate for his help… Peter hadn't hesitated long but had offered any help he could without judging him or even commenting all that much on Nathan's new abilities.

It seemed as if the gift Peter had once possessed and that had been brutally taken away by their father, was now starting to manifest in Nathan as well. He was discovering new abilities everyday (a Swiss-army-knife Nathan had called himself) and especially the clairsentience had spooked him out at first.

But Nathan had been determined to get to the bottom of what was happening to him (and also of what had truly happened to that former friend of his, Kelly Houston) and… well, Peter had to admit he hadn't even thought about asking his brother about it again.

There had been other things on his mind.

But tomorrow, Peter told himself and turned onto his side to get more comfortable in bed, tomorrow he would try to get in touch with his brother again, to see if he could be of any help.

Oh, Peter suddenly remembered. He hoped that Nathan had shown up at home again, or at his office or… anywhere.

And if not… well, Peter was sure he'd be able to find him somehow.

Perhaps Noah Bennet had another tracking-system like Molly Walker stashed away somewhere in his extensive files. It seemed to Peter there was nothing that Noah hadn't a file on.

Between the two of them they'd be able to locate Nathan, right? Right, 'Team Noah/Peter' was simply made of win, today's experience had proven that beyond doubt.

**_Please, please forgive me_**

_**But I won't be home again**_

_**I know what you do to yourself**_

_**I breathe deep and cry out:**_

_**"Isn't something missing?**_

_**Isn't someone missing me?"**_

_**

* * *

  
**_

_Angela_

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Petrelli, but I can assure you…"

Angela fell right into the bored secretary's voice. "No, dear, you cannot assure me at all. It's not like Nathan to take such a prolonged leave of absence, no matter what you say."

"Well, Senator Petrelli seemed kind of distracted lately and," the secretary took a quick breath, "well, simply not like himself somehow. Perhaps he needed some time off, away from everything that has happened."

"Without informing anyone on the hill? Without informing even his family?" Angela raised a single eyebrow. "He may have come down with a particularly bad kind of midlife crisis but he wouldn't just abandon his work, the people who count on him, and simply disappear. He just wouldn't, that's not like Nathan!"

'Of course it's not like him and you know exactly why's that,' a devilish voice that sounded suspiciously like Matt Parkman suddenly whispered inside Angela's head. 'It's because that's not Nathan we're talking about! It's Sylar inside the body of your son and no matter how deep I try to bury his true identity, sooner or later Sylar's personality will find a way to break out of its prison! You know that! You knew it when you and Bennet talked me into this mess and you took the risk! So now you have to live with it!'

Angela shook her head to clear her thoughts and simply hung up the phone without a goodbye to Nathan's secretary.

Something was very wrong here and Angela could feel the dread creeping up on her like mist on a wet and cold November morning. Even if Nathan's false memories were slowly wavering and Sylar were on his way out, something she wished would never happen, even if that were the case…

The man, no matter whether he'd be Nathan or Sylar, wouldn't simply fall from the face of the earth without so much as a peep!

Nobody had seen Nathan in days! He hadn't shown up at his office or at home, he hadn't been to Peter's place and Angela knew that the last time anyone had seen her eldest (or what passed for him these days) had been the day they'd met at the bar to discuss certain events from his past that should better have stayed buried.

What had it been Nathan had accused her of then? 'Every time there's a secret buried some place I'd find you with a shovel behind your back!'

How true!

Angela had simply shrugged it off with a flippant remark ('You should write Mother's Day cards!') and Nathan hadn't commented any further. Soon after that she'd kissed him goodbye – flinching only inwardly and not open to his eyes, unlike himself who'd very obviously disliked the motherly attention – and then they'd parted ways.

That had been the last time she'd seen her son.

'Liar!' Parkman's voice inside her head whispered again. 'That's not your son, your son is dead! You last saw him, lifeless and bled to death from a gaping wound all across his throat, in a hotel suite…'

"No!" Angela screamed and closed her eyes in despair. She brushed away a lonely tear that had somehow come rolling down her flushed cheek. She wouldn't listen to that voice again, and she wouldn't cry another tear for her son.

Nathan wasn't dead!

They'd saved him, they'd saved everything that was him and had simply put it into a different vessel. Each and every memory that defined Nathan Petrelli for who he was had been captured and stored within a hollowed-out shape.

They'd saved him and Angela would rather cut out her own heart than admit anything else! And she'd never let herself sink so low as to start thinking of her son as dead. She wouldn't shed a single tear for him, she wouldn't mourn him…

Nathan wasn't dead.

Angela Petrelli would cling to that false thought with every last ounce of strength that she could muster. And if that wouldn't be enough… she would even go so far as to let the Haitian wipe her memory of what she, Matt Parkman and Noah Bennet had done.

If she didn't remember any of it… she wouldn't miss Nathan so badly all the time then, even when he was with her, would she?

_**Even though I'm the sacrifice**_

_**You won't cry for me, not now**_

_**Though I'd die to know you love me**_

_**I'm all alone**_

_**Isn't someone missing me?**_

_**

* * *

  
**_

_Claire_

She watched Peter put a hand onto her dad's shoulder and then, with one last smile in her direction, both men disappeared from sight. Claire stared at the empty space for a moment longer, whishing them luck for their quest to find a healer for Hiro before he'd die of his brain tumor, and then she turned to retrieve the laundry basket she'd placed on her dad's couch earlier.

She eyed the only half-filled basket and suddenly a thought struck her. The young woman quickly went into the bathroom and immediately spotted a pile of her dad's clothes, carelessly thrown onto the ground in a bunch. Several light blue and gray shirts lay scattered among dark socks, T-shirts and three or four gray slacks.

'Poor dad,' Claire thought with a fond smile, 'he doesn't know how to do his laundry. Thank God he owns like a million suits and shirts. Still, I have to show him how to use a washing machine some time soon, or else he'll have to rely on me doing his laundry for him forever, now that mom's gone.'

Claire picked up the pile of clothing and carried it over to her laundry basket. When she closed the bathroom door another smile made it onto her face, a much happier one than before. She remembered Peter stumbling out of here not half an hour ago, mumbling something like 'It's been a while since I teleported,' with that typical sheepish grin of his. The one that always reminded her of when she'd met him for the first time, in front of the trophy case in the school halls on that dreadful day in Texas.

Had that really been only three years ago? Claire thought about how much had happened since then, to her and to Peter as well.

She hadn't even known then that Peter was her uncle! That revelation hadn't come until much later, on the day Peter had died for the first time. A death that, thankfully, hadn't lasted for long.

But Claire still remembered the terrible feeling that had overcome her then, the feeling of having lost someone very important before she'd even gotten the chance to truly get to know him.

Claire could also easily recall Nathan's devastated face when he'd seen Peter's dead body then. She'd seen his pain and had felt with him, the biological father she'd never met before. The way he'd crouched down in front of the couch with his brother's lifeless form clutched desperately in his arms, crying…

Claire hadn't been able to stop feeling sympathetic, no matter how determined she'd been to not like the man that, a few weeks prior, hadn't cared about her enough to even meet her.

No, although Claire had wanted to feel completely indifferent towards Nathan Petrelli… witnessing his grieving, his pain over the loss of his brother, it had made Claire's resolve crumble instantly.

She'd quickly started to like him after that, to admire him even, and when he'd admitted that he could fly she'd thought him to be the coolest guy ever.

There'd been a time when she'd briefly mistrusted him, even hated him for his willingness to sacrifice Peter and half of New York in a bomb explosion. But then he'd come around, he'd saved them all. From that moment on Claire had always believed in him. She'd believed in the good inside of him, no matter what poor or downright bad decisions he'd made after that. He'd done terrible things, had endangered everyone with abilities, had hunted and even killed innocent people (or as good as, being the one in command of the operation)…

And still, with the free pass for her and the whole swooping-her-off-to-Mexico… somehow Claire had always known that he cared deeply for the people he loved, he just had a spectacularly bad way of showing it. But she'd always hoped for the good in him to win, for the love for his family to finally outweigh his ambition.

And she'd been right, hadn't she? Eventually Nathan had pulled through. He'd helped saving the world again and he'd even managed to kill Sylar somehow.

Claire still didn't know the particulars on how he'd done it, none of the few people involved had cared to tell her. Not her dad, nor Angela Petrelli (Claire just couldn't bring herself to call that woman her grandmother) or anybody.

And Nathan?

Well, Claire had to admit that she hadn't talked all that much to him lately. At first she'd been busy helping her (other) dad settle into the new situation, meaning the divorce and everything. Then college had started and since then she'd simply been too busy to call Nathan.

She hadn't even thought about him in weeks, Claire admitted to herself. 'I should really try to be in touch more often,' the young woman thought with a slight pang of guilt inside her stomach. 'I'm gonna call him as soon as I've done the laundry!'

With that plan in mind Claire picked up the laundry basket and left her dad's apartment for the Laundromat around the corner.

Who knew, perhaps Nathan wasn't busy tonight or tomorrow with whatever it was a U.S. Senator did so that she would be able to talk him into taking her out on a fancy dinner? She hadn't gone on a date in like, forever.

Not that dinner with her biological father counted as a date but… spending time with a man she hadn't known all that long (not really), being invited to dinner in a nice restaurant… well, it was a date after all, sort of. Only without the… you know, the actual dating the guy part.

Not that she'd much experience in that. Not lately.

In fact, Claire recalled all of a sudden and with a smile on her face, the last time she'd spent time in a manner that remotely resembled a date (apart from college parties) had been the night she'd spent with Nathan in Mexico, drinking Tequila for money, watching a worse-for-wear Nathan beat up those college guys and then fly away with her into the night, her half-carrying his drunken ass upstairs to their dingy room, helping him undress and finally putting him to bed.

Now, several weeks later and with the direness of the situation gone, Claire looked back on that night with a fond smile. It had probably been the closest she'd ever gotten to see the real, unmasked Nathan Petrelli. The man without his armor, shining or otherwise, just like she'd always hoped she'd catch a glimpse of.

And today she would start reconnecting with him.

Nathan had said, that night in Mexico, that he regretted not being there for her sooner. He'd mourned his chance to watch her grow up but she'd assured him that she wasn't done yet and that there was still much he could help her with (and perhaps vise versa).

And now that their lives seemed to have calmed down a little, now there would be plenty of time for them to finally get to know each other, right?

**_Please, please forgive me_**

**_But I won't be home again_**

**_Maybe someday you'll look up_**

**_And, barely conscious, you'll say to no one:_**

**_"Isn't something missing?"_**

**_

* * *

  
_**

_Noah_

He'd put a comforting arm onto Jeremy's slender shoulders and tried to transmit strength into the young man. They stood on the far side of the sunny veranda when the coroner ordered his people to carry off the half-decayed bodies of Jeremy's parents.

Noah looked down to the slightly shaking kid. "Do you have somewhere else to stay?"

"I've been sleeping in the tool shed in the backyard ever since…" Jeremy broke off helplessly.

"No," Noah shook his head, "I mean, do you have any relatives? Someone we should call? Someone you could stay with?"

"My mom has a sister, somewhere in Texas, I guess. But I can't remember ever meeting her. Guess they weren't all that close." Jeremy walked a few steps and then sat down onto the dry wooden front steps. Noah lowered his tall body to seat himself next to the boy.

"Still, I think we should call her," Noah took off his glasses and pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose. When he'd slid the glasses back on he noticed Jeremy was watching him with a frown.

"You'd want to call a complete stranger to tell her that her sister, who she hasn't seen in more than ten years, is dead? Why tell her at all? They haven't been in touch, so…"

"You know, Jeremy," Noah sighed and looked down to his shoes, "I've recently come to understand that you're not always better off not knowing certain things."

When Noah looked up again Jeremy motioned for him to go on.

"You see," the elder man continued hesitantly, "someone, a… friend, died a few weeks ago. And I'm one of three people who know about it while everybody else, even his family, has no idea."

"Why don't you tell them?" Jeremy asked at once.

"That's difficult to explain, and not the point. The point is that while at first I thought they'd be better off, not knowing, I don't think that anymore. See, while I may feel pain over the loss, I also got the chance to say my farewells, to get closure. His family, his daughter, they never got that chance. If you don't know about a person's death you can never really say goodbye."

Noah fell silent and took a deep breath. He hadn't talked to anyone about this before… but he felt that he'd needed to. Deep inside Noah had noticed a weight settle around his guts ever since…

It had been there for over six weeks now, growing constantly, the weight of what he, Angela Petrelli and Matt Parkman had done. They'd created an unpredictable monster when they'd buried a mass murderer's conscience under a Senator's false memories and forced the empty shell to look like someone that it wasn't.

It would never be truly Nathan.

Noah had tried to come to terms with what they'd done, he'd tried to justify their actions in his mind with something other than his own selfishness. Sympathy for Angela not having to lose a child had made a good enough excuse to the doubting Parkman, but all the while Noah had screamed inwardly at his own stupidity. He'd soon come to realize their actions had been one of the biggest mistakes Noah had ever let happen.

When that had hit home Noah had almost completely avoided a confrontation with… he couldn't even bring himself to call that person Nathan. It wasn't him.

But neither was it Sylar, it wasn't that simple.

Despite several 'sylarish traits' that had come to manifest itself (as well as some new abilities), the man looked like Nathan.

He walked and talked, smiled and frowned like Nathan. Noah had seen with his own eyes how he'd rubbed the back of his neck in agitation like he'd seen Nathan do it countless times before. The man held his chin, raised his eyebrows and managed to throw contempt and arrogance around with a single glare from hazel eyes like Nathan.

And still… Noah had barely managed to meet those eyes knowing who was in there.

It wasn't truly Nathan. It would never be him.

But, Noah assumed, he would somehow have to get used to this new Nathan Petrelli without flinching every time someone mentioned the name. He would have to learn to live with it.

And that wouldn't even be the hardest part of all. No, what Noah dreaded like nothing else, what he feared the most and what had been weighing on his conscience more and more each day was…

Hiding the truth from Claire, lying to her, not being able to talk to her…

And even worse than having to look into Nathan-and-not-yet-Nathan's eyes without cringing was… holding his Claire-Bear's gaze when she'd talk about her biological dad, about plans to meet him, about wanting to finally get to know him better…

Knowing the truth about Nathan's condition, and secretly regretting it, while at the same time being forced to hold up the lie with a smile at his daughter's face…

Noah had no idea how long he'd be able to hold up the façade before he'd crumble. Claire had been right when she'd observed that lately Noah had seemed planless.

The man with the plan was simply at a loss.

No wonder, since he'd lost the one person that planned things like him, that thought strategy like him, that knew the meaning of the term 'sacrifice for the greater good' as personally as him.

With Nathan's death Noah had lost his mirror image, his other side of the medal.

And he'd never get that back, no matter how many Nathan Petrelli look-alikes they'd ever come up with.

It would never be truly him.

_**Even though I'm the sacrifice**_

_**You won't try for me, not now**_

_**Though I'd die to know you love me**_

_**I'm all alone**_

_**Isn't someone missing me?**_

_**

* * *

  
**_

_Nathan_

The light once again faded away and left him wrapped in darkness. Everything was black, cold and blurry somehow.

He was confused. He tried to call the light back, the light and the people he'd caught glimpses of. They divided into two different groups.

Peter, Claire, Heidi and his boys… He'd watched them go through their daily routines, sending brief fleeting thoughts his way. Some had been angry thoughts, others were thoughts of disappointment or confusion… regret had been among them, too. And then they'd continued with their every-day lives, casually wondering when they'd meet him again. Making plans, promising to themselves to be in touch more often…

Not one of them was grasping the current situation, and how could they, really? They couldn't. Not yet, just like they could not begin to miss him the way they would…

If they knew the truth.

When they'd learn the truth.

Their plans were for nothing. They wouldn't meet him ever again.

Nathan Petrelli had disappeared from their lives forever. And they didn't even know it yet.

_**Please, please forgive me**_

_**But I won't be home again**_

_**Maybe someday you'll look up**_

_**And, barely conscious, you'll say to no one:**_

_**"Isn't something missing?"  
**_

Those who didn't know couldn't miss him, clearly. But what about the other ones? His mom… Noah Bennet…

He'd seen it, he'd seen how his mom denied herself to miss him. And Noah? Deep down he'd realized his mistake already but… nevertheless, he cut himself off, he wouldn't let himself miss him.

Both of them did everything to not miss him, not mourn him, not acknowledge his… 'being gone' at all.

And by doing that they denied him every chance to be mourned, to be missed by anyone else as well. They took away his chance to see if his life had touched others, had meant something…

Their actions had robbed him of any chance he'd had to ever know what he'd truly meant to others, or if he'd meant something at all.

As long as his death would stay concealed he'd never have a chance to know.

What had Noah said to that kid: "If you don't know about a person's death you can never really say goodbye."

Noah and his mom, they'd robbed him of his earned goodbye from the ones he'd loved.

Why?

Did they do it to ease the pain, or simply their conscience? To deny the truth, to make what they did bearable… to justify their actions?

Or to forget them?

Would he ever know?

_**Am I that unimportant...?**_

_**Am I so insignificant...?**_

_**Isn't something missing?**_

_**Isn't someone missing me?**_

_**

* * *

  
**_

**The End**

_I know that some parts are more crappy than others... let me know which one's your favorite, okay? Mine is Claire's, followed by Angela's. But that's my opinion. Tell me yours, please._


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